


Control

by morganaDW (morgana07)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Sam, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Spoilers, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morganaDW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean invites Sam to resume their D/s games. Will recent events force Dean to take things too far? *Wary/limp!Sam & On edge/angsty!Dean* Spoilers for past 09x18-Metafiction. (Dean/Sam)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Language as well as warning for mild violence and also D/s matter. This one carries an explicit warning label too.
> 
> Spoilers/Tags: Not tagged to anything but it happens between 09x18-Metafiction and 09x19-Alex Annie, Alexis Ann so there will be some minor spoilers.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. This is for enjoyment purposes only.
> 
> Note: This is a belated birthday story for my friend Janice C678 who always enjoys a good tied up Sammy with some kink tossed in, lol. Happy Birthday, Janice.  
> Also, thanks to Jenjoremy for the superfast beta work in which she did her usual excellent job. I hope you guys enjoy this one.

**Control**

“Dean! I’m back with beer and food!” Sam Winchester dropped the bags on the large map table and looked around, expecting to see his older brother in his usual place brooding over files or punching keys on his laptop. His brother, however, was nowhere in sight, and the bunker had an unusually empty feel to it, which immediately put the younger hunter on high alert.

Ever since they returned from the “prisoner exchange,” Dean had been getting more and more on edge. He was now not only worried about killing the last Knight of Hell, but he was also troubled by Metatron’s seemingly overwhelming power. He was spending endless hours pouring over all available information, so his absence now was unsettling.

Sam had also been worried since the meeting with Metatron but for different reasons. He was troubled by Cas’s warning to watch out for Dean after the angel had seen the Mark of Cain on his arm. There wasn’t much information on the Mark in the Men of Letters lore, and Sam had gone through most of the books and files there so he should know. It seemed like Dean was getting even edgier now with the Mark and the blade apart, and Sam could see the signs of violence building in his older brother in a way that he’d never seen before.

“Dean?” he called again, dropping his jacket over the back of Dean’s abandoned chair. He noticed something sitting on one of the tables in the library next to an open, but untouched, bottle of whiskey. “Shit,” Sam breathed when he reached out and his fingers picked up the thick, heavy leather collar; something began to shift nervously in his belly.

The collar was something that Sam hadn’t seen in several years. In fact he’d thought that Dean had gotten rid of all of their “stuff” a few years ago. They’d stopped their D/s playing after Sam had been locked in the cage and then returned soulless. While Sam sometimes missed it, Dean was always too afraid of stirring up his younger brother’s nightmares. So why would the collar be sitting out now?

Seeing the collar gave Sam a confused, slightly uneasy, feeling, and he left the library to go find his brother. The kitchen was empty and spotless which meant that Dean had been cleaning, another thing his brother hadn’t done with as much effort since the Mark began to affect him more.

Dean’s bedroom was also empty, but Sam’s room held another little gift. He had pushed his door open just to peek inside but stepped all the way in when he saw the pair of matching leather cuffs placed deliberately in the center of his bed with a note in a scrawled writing that Sam knew instantly was his brother’s.

“‘ _Lose the shirt. Put the cuffs on. Leave the collar off. I’m in the dungeon_.’”

“Fuck.” Now Sam felt the butterflies building. The note was definitely an order and, Sam realized, an invitation to resume their games. He wasn’t sure that this was the best time to restart this side of their relationship, but he also knew that if he backed out of this, then he could kiss any hope of mending this rift with Dean goodbye.

Although Dean was the D in their relationship and always decided when, where and how intense their games would be, Sam had never been worried about his brother going too far. This time, however, he wasn’t completely confident about his brother’s inner control, so he hesitated just a moment, waging an inner battle with himself. Finally, his desire to rebuild his trust with his brother won, and he pulled his shirt off over his head. He hooked the leather cuffs around his wrists, smiling at how they were still soft from previous use and Dean’s careful handling of them after each use.

On his way down to their hidden dungeon, Sam saw and picked up several other items that had been in their toy box…items Dean obviously hadn’t thrown away. Of the items he came across, only the ring gag gave him a moment’s pause and he hesitated before picking it up. While he had always enjoyed most of the toys Dean had introduced during their sessions, gags were the one thing he had never fully embraced; he was especially uncomfortable with the ring gag because while it took away his voice, it still gave Dean the ability to use his mouth. Sam shook his head, pushing aside his discomfort, and stepped into the dungeon.

Sam felt his breath catch in his throat as he caught sight of Dean leaning against a table in the room, legs crossed at the ankle and arms crossed over the hard muscles of his chest that the tight black T-shirt showed off nicely. The green of his eyes were glittering with an array of emotions that Sam couldn’t define right then since it had been a long time since his brother had looked at him that intently.

“That box have a hole in it when you brought it down here?” Sam held out the things he’d picked up and saw a slow smirk form as his brother pushed away from the table. As Dean approached him, Sam felt his first twinge of wariness since Dean’s movements were fast and measured as he took each piece from Sam’s hands to place it on the table. Soon he was only holding the collar.

“I wanted to give you plenty of warning about what you were getting into if you stepped in here with me.” Dean took the collar and stared at it for several moments before lifting his eyes to his brother’s face and then down to the cuffs on his wrists. “The first time we did this I asked you if you trusted me enough to risk letting go, to give me full control over your body and what I did to you, both in pleasure and pain.” He spoke slowly, voice low, gravelly, and missing the soft concern that Dean almost always had. “You used to say yes without a second of hesitation. A lot’s changed since the last time we played like this. You’ve changed…you’ve been hurt…but more than that, it’s probably safe to say that with this Mark on my arm…I’ve changed. So here’s the million-dollar question, Sam. Do you still trust me to know how far to go?”

The answer was the same; it always would be even if a piece of Sam was nervous. “Yes,” he replied, but the hesitance must have shown because Dean lifted an eyebrow as if mocking his answer. “Am I worried? Yes, a little. But even before you got this Mark, there were times when I went into these nights a little worried. You didn’t ask me if I was nervous. You asked me if I trusted you…and the answer to that will always be yes…even if what I see that Mark doing to you scares me.”

“Huh,” Dean grunted as if not expecting that reply. He turned to eye the array of toys on the table and those still in the box. “We haven’t done this in a long time…not since before you jumped in the cage…and you know…there were always things I held back from…things I wouldn’t do…. lines I wouldn’t cross. If you stay, if you agree to wear this collar for me tonight, it’s my call on what we use, what I do, and how far we go. You saw the gag. Will you let me gag you with it? Will you trust me to have control over using your mouth if I want to? Will you take the risk that I can stay in control and not go too far over that edge that’s been building inside of me…or will you turn and walk out now?” He turned slowly, almost knowingly, as if he expected Sam to be gone or shaking his head in refusal…after all, anyone who knew Dean’s current state of mind should be putting a lot of distance between them.

In all honesty that was what Dean expected when he turned. He wasn’t expecting to find that while Sam’s face had paled slightly, it hadn’t lost the edge of determination as he met his older brother’s hard gaze for a long moment of silent understanding. He nodded once before dropping gracefully to his knees in front of Dean to lower his head so his eyes were on the hard and cold concrete floor, and his hands moved behind his back to cross at the wrists.

“Yes…Sir.” Sam made sure his voice was steady and submissive; something he never was except when they did this. He hesitated over the last word because his brother had never allowed him to use it before, but this time Sam wasn’t quite sure of the rules or how far into this Dean wanted to go.

“Sonuvabitch,” Dean muttered, as if shocked by Sam’s complete surrendering of himself to his total control. He felt the brand on his arm begin to burn as if it knew as well as Dean did the dangers that could lie ahead if he gave into the blistering need that had been calling him for days. But then something clicked and his eyes hardened just slightly.

“What do you call me?” he demanded, voice a low growl as he stepped closer to take a handful of long dark hair to use for control when he yanked Sam’s head up to look at him. “What did I tell you to call me?”

“Dean,” Sam replied, fighting the wince of pain that nearly came and his own body’s automatic reaction to being in this position. “Not Sir or Master. Just Dean. I’m sorry.”

Dean nodded slowly, loosening his fingers slightly so he could run the collar through his hands before eyeing Sam. “Tell me what you want. Tell me you want to wear this collar tonight.”

It might have seemed odd or unwise that Sam would risk placing himself in this position given his brother’s state of mind as of late, and while he was nervous, the sight of the collar steadied his resolve. “I want you to put your collar on me.” He saw the flash of heat that sparked in Dean’s eyes. “I want to wear that collar…your collar…tonight and any night that you wish me to…Dean.”

“You might change your mind before we’re through,” Dean growled but quickly fastened the collar around Sam’s neck. He buckled it securely, and a little too tightly at first, but quickly slipped two fingers between skin and collar to test and then loosened it a fraction. “You still look so damn hot like this.” He went to his knees in front of Sam to grab another handful of hair and pulled the younger man forward to crush their lips together.

The kiss was hard and brutal, all teeth and tongue, and for a second Sam tensed. “Mine,” Dean snapped, reaching behind him to grab something; he held up the ring gag but also two pieces of material. “The gag means you won’t be able to say your safeword so once I secure your hands to the wall, I’m gonna put one cloth in each of your hands. You drop the yellow one if you need me to slow down for a minute…and the red means stop. Understand?”

“Yes, Dean.” Sam inwardly winced at the slight shake he heard when he spoke, but the thought of that damn gag was getting to him. He hated being gagged by anything…except of course Dean’s cock. He thought he could handle anything but the ring gag…but this was Dean’s show, so he’d handle it…because dropping either cloth was not an option tonight.

“Still scared of this one aren’t you?” Dean murmured seeing the expression on his younger brother’s face as he stared at the ring gag. He knew the answer even before Sam’s darkening hazel eyes dropped behind his lashes. The mark on his arm burned like fire now as if it wanted to see the look of fear that he knew would show the moment he put the gag in Sam’s mouth and secured it. “Out of everything we’ve done…everything that I could do to you tonight….this gag is what makes your heart beat faster…but you’re still willing to let me use it.” He brushed his thumb over Sam’s lips and felt a slight tremble, but still his brother didn’t speak. “Strip.”

The rapid change in topic had Sam blinking as he was pulled to his feet, but he moved quickly to follow the instructions, pulling his shoes and socks off followed by his jeans and underwear. He was fully exposed with a building erection that made a faint blush cover his cheeks.

“Back against the wall.” Dean had been digging in his box of toys, but he kept what he’d removed out of Sam’s line of sight as he reached up for a set of chains hooked to the wall. “The first time we found this place and I saw these…the very first image that flashed in my head was you naked and chained to the wall. Before we’re through, we might try out every piece of hardware down here.”

He pressed one of Sam’s hands back against the concrete wall and held it there for a moment as if waging an internal battle before he locked a solid steel, sigil engraved cuff over the leather cuff already on his wrist. Then he did the same on the other side so that both hands were locked at shoulder height. After locking the second cuff, Dean placed the two cloths into Sam’s hands and reached for what he’d stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans. “Open up, baby boy.”

Sam automatically tensed and closed his eyes while opening his mouth after swallowing nervously a couple of times. He told himself to settle down because he knew what was coming and he knew in his head that realistically this was just a gag like any other they’d used.

Expecting the hard cold metal of the ring gag, Sam started at the feel of rubber and it clicked that this was a ball gag instead. He opened his eyes and tried to convey his confusion when Dean looked up after hooking the straps at the back of Sam’s head.

“The Mark might want pain and blood, but I’m still in control enough to know I’d be breaking every promise I made to you when we first started playing like this if I did something that I knew scared you,” Dean replied to the unasked question shining in his brother’s eyes. “Remember to drop one of those if you want this stopped…because if you don’t and I end up hurting you, I’ll kick both our asses.”

Nodding his understanding, Sam watched those deep green eyes take on an even more intense look as Dean ran his hands down his body. He knelt in front of Sam to hook his ankles about shoulder width apart, and then Sam groaned at the sensation of something sliding up to fit snugly around the base of his cock.

“You don’t come until I say you can,” Dean growled, standing easily, and once again Sam was reminded of the hard lean body his brother had and the gracefulness of his movements that very few people got to see. “You look so hot like that, little brother. Chained to the wall with that collar around your neck and gagged. Gonna enjoy making you beg for me. Been so damn long…and it’s gonna be a long night…for you.”

\- - - - - - - - - - -

When Dean first said it was going to be a long night, Sam hadn’t really taken it seriously. Now as he pulled and strained in the chains that held him to the dungeon wall while his body fought between pleasure and pain, he wondered long it had been since they’d started; it felt like hours.

Dean had started off slowly. He’d always liked to tease and play as he worked Sam to the point where begging was a must; this time it dawned on Sam that no matter how much he tried to beg for release through the ball gag, his brother had slipped into a much darker mindset than he normally was in. It appeared that he wasn’t going to back off until he got what he needed or until Sam dropped one of the cloths…if then.

Dean had started the night by pulling his black t-shirt off over his head to reveal toned muscles that Sam’s fingers itched to touch…which he knew is why Dean took it off. Clad in only his tight jeans, Dean had stood back and studied Sam…as if deciding where to start.

Then Dean had kissed and licked his way over Sam’s bare chest, sucking on his neck until he knew he’d have bruises and hickeys there for several days to come; he was quickly hard and steadily dripping precome, but the ring kept him from finding release.

“So hard for me, Sam,” Dean breathed as he ran his fingers along the throbbing length. Sam’s head slammed back against the wall as Dean’s hands moved farther back. If his brother kept this up much longer, Sam was going to give himself a concussion.

Next, Dean held up a thick, black dildo, smiling as Sam’s eyes widened at the sight. “Yeah, you remember this, little brother? It’s been awhile…think it still fits?”

Normally Dean stretched him before using anything but this time all the older brother did was lube his fingers and push two of them into Sam’s tight hole a few times before working the dildo up until it was fully seated. It hurt but it was nothing worse than Sam had felt during previous games, and the burning edge of pleasure that followed slowly, finally, was worth what pain there’d been. Sam was glad that Dean held some control and hadn’t just shoved the long thick dildo into him.

Dean pinned his hips against the wall with his own body, rubbing his cock with rough denim to make the already strung out hunter moan behind the gag and try to move, needing friction of some kind to ease the ache building between his legs and also the pressure inside him from the damn dildo…the damn dildo that Sam had forgotten _vibrated._

Now he was shaking with the need brought on from the vibrating dildo that pressed against his prostate and the pleasure pain from the nipple clamps that Dean had attached to both rosy little nubs, the chain between them heavy against his heaving chest.

He was also shaking from the strain of not jerking as he watched the knife in his brother’s skilled hand cut again. Sam’s chest was littered with shallow cuts, some deeper than others; this wasn’t the first time they’d brought knifeplay and a little blood into the equation, but this time, Sam was trying not to freak out. It was the clear that the longer this went, the more intense Dean’s face became, and soon it appeared as if he wasn’t fully aware of what he was doing. Sam moaned with need, but also with a little bit of fear.

His cock, of course, responded to the risk, to the pain, though and he groaned as the intense feelings coursed through his body. Dean leaned against him, arm tight across his chest to keep him still, as the tip of his blade traced a pattern into Sam’s chest.

“Hold still!” Dean’s voice was deeper, harsher; he kept his eyes on the blade, but seemed deaf to the sudden muffled cry that was more pain than pleasure as his cuts began to become deeper and more erratic. “Gonna cut you…mark you…own you. It wants blood. It wants to cause pain, fear. It wants to draw this out until you’re marked all over. It wants to hear you scream, Sam.” He lifted his eyes and met the wide eyes staring back at him. He went to his knees in front of Sam to run the dull edge of the blade up his blood red and leaking cock, smiling dangerously at the rapid shake of a head.

“You’re right to be worried about me, little brother.” Dean teased the blade over the twitching cock then moved it back toward his balls. He pressed the edge of the blade up behind the heavy full balls and earned a whimpered moan that could have been either need or fear. “Every single day that I don’t have the blade, that I can’t give this mark on my arm what it seems to be craving, what _I_ seem to be craving more and more, the harder it is to control myself.” The knife handle slid back to press against the end of the dildo, making it press against Sam’s prostate a little harder, and he thrashed in the chains with what little give he had. “Right now this little annoying voice in my head, in my blood, is screaming at me to cut you, bruise you…hurt you…and it would be so damn easy with you chained up here like this. It doesn’t care who I hurt as long as violence happens. It’s kind of like having an outlet for all the buried rage and skills I picked up between Hell and Purgatory.”

Sam’s eyes snapped wide at that, and he began to silently curse his own stupidity for not seeing the warning signs before now. The raw edge of violence that had been showing in his brother more these past weeks, the restlessness, the constant need for action, were all little clues and reminders to how Dean had been after his return from Hell and certainly his time in purgatory. Sam looked at the red cloth in his right hand, tempted to drop it, but instead, simply tightened his grip on it. Dean had to finish this; he had to overcome the Mark.

Even knowing the ball gag muffled his words, Sam tried to talk; he tried to get Dean to look back up to see his eyes, but his brother’s gaze was focused on the hilt of the knife. That hilt pressed into the dildo again just as the remote kicked it up to its highest setting, and Sam couldn’t suppress the scream at the unexpected burst against his prostate.

“It likes it when you scream, Sam.” Dean’s voice was a whisper, his lips thin, as he ran the calloused palm of his free hand over Sam’s trembling thigh before slipping it between his legs to cup his balls. He squeezed a little too hard, as if liking the pained sounds it drew from Sam even as his cock continued to drip at the sensations against his prostate. “You like feeling this dildo hit that sweet spot, baby brother? How about if I took it out and replaced it with the handle of my knife?” He licked his lips as if seeing the picture that presented.

“No!” Sam’s voice was muffled but his meaning was clear as he shook his head frantically. His fingers toyed once again with the cloths in his hands, but he still held off dropping the red one. He didn’t fear failing or giving in, but he _was_ scared that Dean might not stop even if he dropped the cloth, and Sam would rather not find out if his brother was that far gone.

Sam tried to twist away from Dean, something he had never done before, and he heard the low growl that told him the move hadn’t been appreciated.

“So many images of what I could do to you.” Dean’s fingers trailed up Sam’s chest and dug painfully into his hair, pulling his head back at an awkward angle. The older hunter watched his brother’s face as he continued to move the hilt of the knife over the base of the dildo. Sam couldn’t bite back the groan; the need to come was maddening as the building fear that Dean was too far gone, that Sam wouldn’t be able to get him back since he couldn’t talk. “I could fuck you with this knife while I suck you off; no matter how long I suck, the cock ring will keep you from coming. You already want to come, don’t you? You’ve gotta be desperate. Your balls are so damn heavy; I know that you’d come if I took the ring off…but that’s that not what it wants. It wants you to beg.” Dean leaned in closer, his lips just inches away from Sam’s. “Yeah…I know you’re already begging behind that gag…but you’re not begging for the right thing. Are you scared yet, Sam? Scared that this brand is more in control than I am? Scared that I’m going to do every violent thing that’s been flashing through my head for weeks?”

The sounds Sam made could be considered a sigh or a moan, fear or need, he wasn’t sure anymore. All Sam knew was that he’d underestimated just how far down this rabbit hole Dean had fallen already, and as his body shook, sweat burned the cuts on his chest, stomach, and arms. He also had to admit that for the first time since they’d began to explore this side of their relationship, he was scared. He was scared of his brother and that made Sam sick to his stomach; his hand clenched, but still refused to drop, the red cloth.

“It wants to be in charge, y’know.” Dean’s voice was lower than normal, gruffer and more gravelly than Sam had ever heard it. “It wants control. It wants to feed on your fear and pain. It wants to hear you scream and watch the desperation build in those great big eyes as it hits you that I’m too far gone to be saved.” He let go of Sam’s hair, fingers now digging into the soft flesh under Sam’s jaw as he forced his head up so their eyes could meet, and something in those glittering green eyes made what breath Sam still had catch.

He’d been expecting to see a dark blankness or something equally cold when he finally found the inner courage to make himself meet his brother’s eyes, and when he did, Sam was stunned. He recognized the lust, the burning need to claim, but he also saw something else…he saw Dean. He saw the same self-assured, self-confident, stubborn man who had turned the tables on Zachariah what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“I said it _wants_ control,” he murmured slowly; his touch suddenly changed from hard to soft as his thumbs lightly brushed over a bruise on the side of Sam’s face. “I never said that it would ever get that much control… sure as hell not over you. Drop the cloth, Sammy.”

Normally Sam might’ve resisted, after all he had a stubborn streak himself, but it was Dean’s use of “Sammy” for the first time that night that made him cave, and he loosened his tightly clenched fingers to let the red piece of material fall free.

The cloth hadn’t even hit the ground before Dean’s hands were moving. He pulled the yellow cloth out of Sam’s other hand and tossed it aside, then reached to undo the buckle on the gag, carefully working the ball free from Sam’s mouth and throwing it over his shoulder. His thumbs massaged along the hinge of Sam’s jaw to help work out the stiffness out until the younger man could close his mouth without pain.

“…De’n?” Sam’s voice was shot. His mouth was parched, his tongue felt thick, and his throat seemed coated with sandpaper as he tried to speak. He wanted to ask his brother what was happening, but as he tried to speak again, he found his mouth covered as Dean kissed him firmly but much more gently than before. He soon found himself whimpering against his brother’s mouth as he felt Dean’s tongue lick over his lips until he let them part.

This kiss was hot, but more controlled, and after hours of pain and worry, Sam gave into it. He let the feel of Dean’s mouth moving on his flow over him until he was oblivious to everything else, and he gasped when Dean suddenly released his cuffs and he fell forward.

“Easy…I’ve got you, Sammy. I’m not done with you, but right now I need to get you patched up and get some water into you.”

Sam hissed as the cuts on his body touched Dean’s chest as he tried to wrap his arms around his older brother to both hold him and to stay on his feet. It only clicked that his ankles were free when Dean helped him take a shaky step away from the wall, but bit down on his cheek to keep from crying out as the dildo that was still buried deep inside his ass moved. “Dean!”

“Shit!” Dean had forgotten the toy until that moment. “Okay, no more kinky stuff until I get this damn mark off my arm. This went too far even with me in control,” he muttered. He carefully held Sam up with one arm while reaching back to pull the dildo out with a curse. “Damn it…you should’ve dropped that red cloth a long time ago, Sam. You know the rules for when you can’t safeword out. When I kept cutting you, you should’ve stopped it. Why didn’t you?” he demanded.

“Scared to,” Sam admitted softly; his ass was on fire from the hasty removal of the dildo, but he was glad he could at least walk without the constant pressure on his prostate. He leaned against the firm shoulder he felt supporting him and hesitated, not sure if should tell his brother the full reason since he was ashamed for not trusting Dean like he said he did.

“You thought I’d lost myself and the brand was in control, didn’t you?” Dean didn’t have to be told. He knew there had to be a reason why Sam wouldn’t have stopped torment earlier. The second he saw long lashes lower to hide his little brother’s still slightly glassy eyes, he knew he was right. He felt an inner rage at himself for letting it go so far; for making Sam fear the ultimate act of betrayal. “You weren’t sure if I’d stop even if you called it off.”

Sam was silent for several heartbeats, groaning softly as he was eased down onto a soft surface that he knew, even with his eyes drifting closed, was Dean’s bed rather his own. “I didn’t want to face that I’d misjudged the situation so badly…if I tried to stop it but you weren’t fully in control…I don’t know…and…I…I do trust you De’n.” He reached out to grab for his brother in case Dean moved away but felt a strong hand grip his in return.

“You trust me. You just don’t trust this brand on my arm.” Dean nodded, feeling the same way, which is why it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would that Sam had been too scared of him not listening to stop him earlier. “I know the feeling. I should’ve stopped before I did, but in some way I think I was trying to gauge myself and how much control this thing had over me.” He watched Sam’s face closely as he lay back. He noticed the small wince and slipped an extra pillow under his hips to help relieve the pain in his ass. “I was in control, Sam, but I think that until we finish this with Abbadon and find a way to get this off of me, we’d better back off the kinky stuff again. It’s too easy for me to hurt you if you’re cuffed cause you can’t defend yourself…and if I ever go too far with you again…I want you to be able to get control…for both of us.”

Sam could feel muscles popping as they uncoiled and he groaned as he relaxed into the mattress. Suddenly his eyes shot open and he nearly fell right off the bed as something cold and painful touched one of the deeper cuts on his chest. “Shit! I hate when you do that!”

“Stop being a baby and hold still,” Dean chided, dabbing antiseptic over another cut. “I don’t think this one needs stitches but if it had been any deeper…”

He trailed off. They both understood that any deeper and Sam could’ve been hurt seriously. Dean was angry with himself. He knew how close he’d come to really hurting his little brother. He had tested himself and almost failed.

“Sip this.” He handed Sam the bottle of water he’d grabbed when he’d retrieved the first-aid kit, glancing up several times up as he cleaned and dressed the cuts to be sure Sam wasn’t chugging it. Content that his brother was drinking the water slowly to avoid throwing it back up, Dean turned his attention to the abrasions on Sam’s wrists.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know how much Sam had been twisting and struggling to have caused the leather cuffs to rub his wrists raw, but he gently cleaned them before taking the collar off with a curse.

Sam stayed silent for the most part except for the occasional hiss of pain. He only objected when Dean went to remove the cock ring. “No.”

“Sammy.” Dean frowned slightly when Sam’s hand took his, moving it away from the clasp holding the ring in place and easing it down until it pressed against his softer but still erect dick. “Sam…I…”

“You said no kink. You didn’t say no sex.” Sam sighed as fingers curled around him cautiously, and despite how tired he was, he felt his body begin to respond. “Please Dean. I need to feel you inside me. I need to know you really are in control and…mmhm.” He moaned as he was kissed deeply.

His blood heated, but as the brand began to burn, Dean gritted his teeth and forced his thoughts to focus on the young man with him, the little brother who was still willing to trust him sexually even after he’d scared the crap out of him in the dungeon.

“Just tell me how you want it, baby boy,” he whispered, licking over the shell of Sam’s ear and down his neck. He spent extra time nuzzling the spot where neck joined shoulder because Dean knew his little brother had a weak spot for that location; he felt him shudder with need. “My mouth, my hand…”

“Your cock in my ass, and your hand on my cock,” Sam returned tightly, his body arching up; he’d nearly forgotten what the feel of Dean’s lips on his skin could feel like when his brother was actually focusing on pleasuring him. “God…I missed this, Dean. Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Sammy,” he replied in a voice deep and husky. “I promise I’m going to make us right. I won’t let this mark win…and I won’t let anyone else, angel or demon, beat us or come between us.”

“Just don’t leave me alone or do something stupid to get yourself killed…I need you to stay with me,” Sam muttered. He knew when the meaning of his words clicked in fully because he felt his brother’s green eyes lock on his, the surprise turning to a slow smile. Sam slowly reached his hand out to lay it over Dean’s heart, feeling it start to beat faster. “You know that I love you and I’d fight just as hard for you as you do for me.”

The final knot in Dean’s gut smoothed out and he caught Sam’s face between his palms to kiss him, smiling at the soft moan he heard. He groaned low in his throat at the touch of Sam’s tongue slipping past his lips to touch his playfully and that put everything else aside.

“How sore are you back here?” he asked between kisses, carefully pulling Sam up to his knees while reaching to grab the bottle of lube out of the nightstand.

“A little sore…but not enough to keep you from putting that in me.” Sam’s eyes dropped down to Dean’s standing at attention and ready for action cock. “I’m probably still open from earlier, so you don’t even have to use the lube. I just need to feel you inside me before I explode.”

“Lean against the headboard and wall.” Dean knew the cuts would be too raw for any other position. He groaned as he saw that Sam’s hole was indeed still open, but it was clear that he hadn’t stretched his brother well enough. He knew Sam had to be more than a little sore, so he applied a generous amount of lube to himself before approaching his brother.

Running his hand down over the swell of Sam’s ass and letting his fingers mold and massage soft flesh, he smiled at the sigh he heard in response to his touch. He settled behind Sam and carefully nudged the head of his cock into the hole. He had to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to keep himself from exploding right there and then because despite having that huge vibrating dildo buried in his ass for hours, Sam was still tight as he slid into him.

“Fuck, Sammy,” he groaned. He couldn’t remember a time since Sam was 17 that his brother felt this tight around him and knew it had been too damn long for them. “So tight, little brother. So damn good too. Missed feeling you like this, hearing every sound you make as I slide into you.”

“Less talking, more fucking, please,” Sam gritted, arms shaking as he worked to support himself on the wall when all he really wanted to do was remove the cockring and jerk himself off. He settled for pushing his hips back to urge his brother to go faster, gasping at the feel of teeth lightly grazing over his shoulder just as one solid thrust brought them ass to balls. All restraint left Sam at the first touch of Dean’s cock hitting that spot inside him…and that spot liked the cock a lot better than the vibrator.

“Always were a bossy bottom,” Dean chuckled, sucking on Sam’s neck until his brother was mindlessly thrusting back. He let Sam find his own pleasure by moving back as he let his hips roll at a slow pace that was actually destroying Dean since his own cock was inching closer to his climax. “Like this, Sammy?” he asked in the pure sinful voice that he’d perfected years ago, licking a stripe up Sam’s neck when it fell back to his shoulder. “Like feeling my cock in your ass while you move back on me? So tight around me, baby boy.”

Sam whimpered at the combination of hearing Dean’s voice and feeling his cock hitting his sweet spot with every move he made. “Dean…touch me,” he gasped, turning his head to the side to give his brother’s mouth and teeth better access to the neck he was sucking and licking until the younger man was shaking with need.

Sam’s cock was fully engorged, red, and weeping. He was torn between moving back to get that feeling on his prostate and forward to try to find any kind of friction for his trapped cock when he felt Dean’s fingers moving around to tease his still sensitive nipples before sliding down. “Gotta…fuck…gotta come, Dean. Please let me come.” He didn’t care if he begged. His body was strung out and he desperately needed release; the cock ring was actually beginning to hurt.

As if sensing his brother’s need, sure fingers found the clasp without looking, and snapped it off, tossing it to the side. Those same fingers then closed firmly over his cock and began to rub it with the long smooth strokes that Dean knew Sam enjoyed.

“Come for me, Sammy,” he whispered against his ear, giving a final stroke up with a flick of his wrist at the end. He felt Sam’s inner muscles clamp down around his cock as he came with a shout, and with that Dean felt his own balls tighten up, and his orgasm quickly followed. He came hard as his body tried to keep up the motion of his hips rolling up and against Sam’s ass, making sure to hit that spot while still stroking his brother’s cock to help milk Sam’s orgasm for as long as he could, to give Sam the most pleasure as his own cock spilled come deep inside. He smiled against Sam’s neck as he listened to the low soft sounds of pleasure coming from his younger brother.

The only sounds in the bedroom for the next several moments were low grunts, flesh on flesh, and whispered words that neither man said often unless alone and lost in moments like this.

Dean felt Sam shudder as he came down from the high of the climax that had coated his hand and Sam’s stomach with come. He quickly pulled Sam back against his chest when he felt his brother suddenly go limp as the exhaustion he’d already suffered and the force of the climax took him under.

“I’ve got you, Sammy,” he murmured. He could feel his own body wanting to join Sam in slumber but knew he had to clean up a bit and settle his brother more before he could sleep. “Shhh, I’m here,” he reassured him as Sam whimpered at the loss when Dean eased out of his ass carefully, laying him on his side and reaching for a pair of worn sweats on the floor to use as a rag. “Thank you for trusting me after what happened, Sammy.”

Sam wasn’t asleep fully but his brain felt like mush, so it took until Dean had cleaned them both up and slipped a pair of shorts on him for the younger hunter to be able to respond to Dean with a sleepy smile.

“Trust you, De’n,” he mumbled, leaning into the touch as fingers carded back through his hair to brush it out of his face and behind his ear. “Wanna try the cuffs again…but maybe not until you get that off.” He gave a tired nod at the not so red mark of his brother’s arm and slowly reached out a finger to trace the brand; it was the first time he’d been allowed to touch it. “Is it still wanting…?”

“No, not right now.” Dean knew what Sam was asking, and he was a little surprised that right now the burning in his blood was quiet…as if what they’d just done had calmed it some. “Maybe sex with you is an acceptable substitute for what it craves…but either way…” He paused to tilt Sam’s face up more, kissing him softly because while Dean would never admit to after sex cuddling, he enjoyed the soft smiles Sam gave during this time. “I swear to…okay I won’t do that since God took a vacation and left the inmates in charge…I swear on the Impala that I will not ever hurt you or let this thing on my arm make me hurt you.” He licked over kiss swollen lips while slipping into his bed, making sure as always that he was on the side closest to the door. His arms settled over Sam, curling protectively around his brother…something they hadn’t done in a long while. “Love you, Sammy.”

Sam gave up fighting sleep, finding the spot between Dean’s neck and shoulder that he always had when they used to share a bed and relaxing fully for the first time in months. “Love you too, Dean,” he yawned, asleep before fingers began to card through his hair and a blanket covered him.

Dean stayed awake for a little longer to watch Sam, making sure he was sleeping fully and peacefully, before he closed his own eyes. He opened one to a slit when he felt a slight burn on his arm and glared at the Mark as if it was cognizant. “He’s mine and I will never lose control and put him at risk again.”

Dean drifted off and was asleep, missing when the Mark on his arm heated but then cooled as its current owner’s arm tightened over Sam’s shoulders protectively. Control was the key, and as long as Dean kept control, he was confident they’d both be fine.

**The End**


End file.
